


Until My Courage Fails

by raineyraven



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Found Family, Good Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Infection, Minor Injuries, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:41:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29072724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raineyraven/pseuds/raineyraven
Summary: Tommy watched him, his face set in an expression of anger and expectance, and Wilbur stayed silent, waiting. He would wait for as long as he needed, as long as it took Tommy to realize he wasn’t an enemy.Or until he passed out from blood loss. He’d prefer it didn’t come to that, though.---This is a side story to my fic Every Tempest I Abide. I don’t delve too deep into Tommy’s backstory over there, so this is the story of how the sleepy bois met Tommy and Tubbo in case anyone wanted it.Set approximately five years before Every Tempest I Abide. You don’t need to have read the main fic to understand this one.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), platonic onlyyyyyy
Comments: 5
Kudos: 88





	Until My Courage Fails

**Author's Note:**

> If any CCs express discomfort with the content of this fic, I will take it down immediately.

The beacon of hope that took the form of a pillar of smoke guided Tommy as he weaved soundlessly through the trees, his only light the billions of stars awake and blinking in the night sky, their rays piercing the canopy above him like spears. He kept the campfire smoke in his sight as he crept down the hill, careful to not alert any mobs.

The night was cloudless, the blanket of twilight that wrapped the world in its dark embrace on full display. Night creatures chirruped in the deep and thorny bracken, their melodies entwining with the whispers of wind and leaves in a ghostly song. The quiet flap of bat wings could be heard from above as the winged animals searched for their next meal. In the distance, an elk bellowed. None cared for the frightened boy with all too much to lose wandering their land. Why should they?

He attempted steadying his heart rate as he walked closer and closer to the campsite. It didn’t work. He wanted nothing more than to turn on his heel and run, heedless to the monsters infesting the shadows, right back to safety.

But he knew he didn’t have that choice.

Tommy clenched his fists, reminding himself why he was doing this. He glared at the twisting trees as he traveled, eyes narrowed and set with iron determination. He wouldn’t fail, not this time. He couldn’t afford to.

The shadows winding over the woods like weeds murmured to him, striving to cultivate the seed of fear residing in his heart.

It was far too soon when he reached the end of the trees, spotting his target in a clearing of soft grass and bramble bushes. A campfire, licking at blackened wood. Surrounding it, three slumbering forms.

The fire sent a flash of unwanted memories racing through him; wide and fearful brown eyes, illuminated by torchlight. Crimson staining the grass. A scream. The memories were harpoons lodged in his flesh, slowly reeling him in.

He gritted his teeth. Not now. He needed to focus.

The trio of adventurers were all asleep, their sleeping forms like boulders, the only movements the gentle rises and falls of their chests. They laid under the stars in their sleeping sacks, and Tommy could make out some of their features in the soft glow of the fire.

Tommy had seen the trio once before, when he had desperately been scouting the woods he currently resided in. Searching for aid. He had stumbled upon the travelers, staying in the shadows as he watched them. He had seen their equipment. He had promised himself he would return.

And here he was.

His heart thumped painfully in his chest. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen if even one of them woke, if they caught him. The crude stone axe at his side suddenly seemed a lot more flimsy.

Steeling himself before his nerves could get the better of him, Tommy started making his way to the campsite.

The scent of burning alder wood filled his nose as he crept, silent as a ghost, keeping the figures in the corner of his eyes with his sight set on their pile of belongings. Little grass bugs flew from the ground at his footsteps, tickling his legs. His throat was dry, but he didn’t swallow.

A pail of water sat beside the flames. A diamond sword and a beautifully carved bow were propped carefully against an oak log. A fur-lined cape of scarlet hung from the tree branch of a nearby birch sapling.

Tommy stepped forward and a twig snapped. He froze, ice in his veins.

No one stirred.

Smothering a sigh of relief before it could escape his throat, he continued, keeping the slumbering travelers in his sight.

Before long he had reached the packs and silently unclasped the first, peering inside. The dim gleam of a pair of enchanted books lit up the rest of the contents, a whetstone and some clothes. Nothing Tommy could use.

The fire was heating Tommy’s back, and the cool breeze ruffled his clothes. He moved on.

The second pack yielded the prize Tommy was in search of, and he grinned despite himself. Wincing at the sound of clinking as he rooted past clothes and pouches of flint, his hand closed around cool, glass bottle. His heart thundered in his ears. His breath escaped him as he brought up the potion bottle, the pink hue of the contents evident even in the dim light.

It was all Tommy could do to keep himself from hollering his victory to the uncaring stars.

He placed the potion in his satchel, pulling two more bottles out of the adventurer’s pack and taking them as well. This had to be enough. Now all he had to go was get to the trees and disappear.

Tommy stilled.

The heat of the fire had retreated from his back. The hairs on his neck stood on end as he felt a presence rise from behind him, looming and dark as the shadows of an oak tree.

Eyes widening as he inhaled in shock, Tommy whipped around to the sight of a silhouette standing over him, sword raised, catching the rays of the moon in its azure blade.

Crying out in surprise, he dived out of the way as the blade came down, heart pounding, adrenaline flooding his veins with the force of a flash flood. The adventurer shouted, awakening his companions.

Tommy was on his feet in a second, already dashing for the trees. His attacker was one step ahead of him, and he appeared in front of Tommy ( _how did he move that fast?_ ). His sword was ready for another strike, but he paused at the sight of Tommy illuminated by the campfire.

Tommy spotted the pail of water in the corner of his eyes, and an idea struck him. He quickly leapt towards it, kicking the bucket of water onto the fire in one swift movement.

The attacker swung to meet Tommy, only to be assaulted with a face full of steam from the doused fire pit. He yelped, bringing his hands to his face.

The other two had completely awoken at this point, rising to their feet. Tommy didn’t waste another moment. Clutching his satchel close to him, he bolted for the woods.

“Thief!”

“Hey, stop!”

Tommy didn’t slow, twisting through trees and ferns in an attempt to throw his pursuers off his tail. He heard them thundering after him, a stampede of danger. He could almost feel them breathing down his neck. He ran faster.

“Please, come back!”

Paying no heed to the calls behind him, Tommy kept his eyes open for anything he could use to escape. He flew across the ground, feet barely touching the forest floor as he sprinted. His breath tore at his throat, his legs and sides ached. Still, he ran.

A familiar sound reached his ears, and Tommy immediately swerved towards it, heart hammering against his chest. Before long he burst through a row of bramble bushes and onto the hard soil of a river bank. The river in front of him bellowed its power into the night, crashing waters never pausing in their journey to nowhere.

He halted as his searching gaze combed the rushing waters, hearing the approach of his pursuers behind him.

Where is it?

_There._

Fifty paces downriver, a path of half-sunk rocks formed stepping stones that spanned the length of the rushing river. They were covered in moss, and the river rapids splashed against their surfaces, the rocks shining with wetness in the moonlight.

Tommy ran to them, his long legs carrying him there swiftly. He quickly pulled off his boots and tied them around his shoulder, heart still hammering. He could hear the adventurer’s voices over the roar of the river now, calling for the thief that had stolen some of their most valuable items.

Steeling himself, he hopped onto the first of the stepping stones. It stayed sturdy beneath his feet. Taking a shuddering breath, he took another step, and another. Soon, he had fallen into a rhythm, allowing his feet and his instincts to guide him. The mist clung to his clothes, weighing him down. The moss sought to trip him every chance it got.

He was two-thirds of the way to the opposite levee when he heard a pair of crashing in the brambles, notifying him of his pursuers’ arrivals. He paid them little mind; he wasn’t in a position to focus on anything else.

He paused as a particularly large wave crashed against his rocks, the freezing water soaking through his bare feet. His feet were going numb, the feeling in them lost to the cold waters. He readjusted as he began slipping off a patch of moss.

By the time he got to the other side, Tommy was ready to collapse. He instead turned to assess the positions of his attackers. A man with shaggy blond hair stood on the other riverbank, staring at Tommy with narrowed eyes, almost looking confused. His mouth was moving, but Tommy couldn’t make out what he was saying.

On the stepping stones balanced the traveler that had originally attacked Tommy at the campsite. The pink-haired man was already halfway across, leaping nimbly across like he had been born to cross rivers on precarious, half-sunken boulders. Looking down, Tommy saw the man was gripping the stones with cloven hooves instead of regular human feet. A hybrid, then. Glancing around once more, Tommy saw no sign of the third adventurer.

Instead of bolting for the trees like he so desperately wanted to, Tommy bent down, grasping a river-rock the size of his fist. He couldn’t shake the travelers from his tail by running, which meant he had to rely on a different strategy.

The traveler on the shore called out a warning to his companion. Too late, the hybrid snapped his head up to meet Tommy’s determined gaze.

Tommy’s rock hit him square on the temple.

Reeling back with a cry, the adventurer tried to regain his balance on the stones. His hoof missed, and he slid down the moss, grabbing for air. He hit the riling waters with a shout, trying and failing to find purchase as the river swept him away.

The blond man yelled for his companion before immediately following, sprinting down the riverbanks in pursuit.

Tommy grimaced. The river shouldn’t kill the traveler if he was smart, the waters calmed not even half a mile downstream. Still, he shuddered at the thought that it could’ve been him trapped in the depths of the malevolent river.

Not wasting another moment, the boy disappeared into the trees, satchel safely in his grasp.

\-----

Wilbur trailed behind the boy soundlessly, keeping the blond in his sights as he stuck to the shade of the trees. The thief was constantly checking over his shoulder, scanning his surroundings as if a demon would emerge from the nearest shadow. He looked like some kind of common prey, timid and cautious, like he had no allies in the whole world.

The night creatures sung into the night, a harmony of chirrups and hoots and squeaks painting the countless stories of the forest. The stars were bright and the sky cloudless enough that very little mobs had spawned, and those that did were often easy enough for Wilbur to sneak past.

When Wilbur had awoken to Techno shouting about a thief, his first thought was: _I knew we should’ve slept in shifts._ The previous day had been physically draining for all of them, and they had unanimously decided to instead rely on Techno’s light sleeping to warn them of danger. Like idiots.

Those thoughts had grinded to a halt when Wilbur caught sight of their apparent thief. He was a child. A fucking child with a gaunt face and skeletal form and eyes blown wide with panic. Techno, too, had paused upon seeing the boy fully illuminated by firelight. He probably could’ve passed for a teen if he wasn’t so malnourished. The haggard boy had immediately bolted for the trees upon their awakening.

Then Wilbur was reaching for his sword and struggling with his boots and wondering what the _fuck_ a starving boy was doing in the middle of the woods.

Phil and Techno had immediately started chasing the boy, pleading with him to come back. They only wanted to help, but the kid had been flung into full-on panic mode after Techno had attacked him, sprinting with the desperation of a deer in a wolf hunt.

Wilbur had followed soon after, struggling with his misplaced boots before sprinting to catch up with his family in all but blood. The sight he had stumbled upon was one of Phil chasing after a submerged Techno and the thief melting into the shadows of the forest on the opposite side of the river.

Leaving his companions, Wilbur had chased after the boy, following him from a distance. He watched as the boy found a small stream and continued running through the creek, avoiding leaving any kind of tracks. Smart.

They kept up a steady pace until midnight, Wilbur jogging behind the unaware thief from the shadows. When the full moon had reached its peak in the night sky, showering the forest in silvery light, the boy slowed, leaving the stream and trotting to a stout rockface covered in vines.

Wilbur crouched in the bracken as the boy once more checked his surroundings. Seemingly satisfied, the thief approached the wall of vines, sticking his hand through and pulling away the vegetation, revealing a dimly lit cave. Wilbur watched as the kid disappeared into the stone.

Wilbur waited for several seconds, listening to his bated breath, before emerging from hiding. He crept on near-silent feet to the cave entrance, the buzz of night insects masking the crunching of leaves beneath his boots as he approached. He lifted a hand to the vines, hesitating a moment before pulling down on the greenery, creating a small peephole.

The small cavern had a low roof, grey rocks flat and sharp on the ceiling. Towards the back was a small stream a trickling water. A campfire smoldered weakly near the cave centre, blackened wood glowing with dying embers. The cave smelt damp and dingy, with the faint scent of old vomit. A sparse amount of belongings lay scattered about the cave floor, their owner clearly having more pressing issues than organization. The thief was standing over something by the far wall, satchel lying open by his feet.

Wilbur wondered why the blond boy needed Phil’s potions. Regeneration potions didn’t help with hunger. To sell, maybe? They were more than half a daywalk from the nearest town, though. What was he doing in the woods in the first place?

The boy moved away from the wall, and Wilbur’s mouth formed a silent O in understanding.

On a low rock ledge sat another boy, revealed by the thief’s movement. He was even smaller than the thief, with cocoa-brown hair and a gaunt face to match his companion’s. The smaller boy looked to be in even worse shape than the blond. He was shivering slightly, a sheen of sweat on his pale skin. He looked weak, sitting propped against the stone wall. When the short boy shifted to a more comfortable position, Wilbur spotted bandages through a tear in his shirt, the wrappings crudely done and applied poorly. The boy was clearly sick and injured. Wilbur wondered if he was even strong enough to stand.

He felt his heart clench. The boy was just trying to help his friend.

The thief started towards where Wilbur was hidden, and the man felt his pulse quicken. The boy, however, simply retrieved something from by the fire, a canteen of what looked like boiled water. He then returned to the satchel and produced a bottle, one of the regeneration potions he had stolen from Phil. Uncorking it, he poured a portion of it into the heated water, watering the potion down to diminish its strength.

The blond murmured something to his friend, and the brunette gestured to a rucksack in the corner. He trotted over to it, retrieving half a salmon cake, before returning to his friend. He proffered it to the shorter boy, slumping slightly when his friend didn’t take it.

“Come on, Tubbo. You have to eat something.”

“You know I won’t be able to keep it down,” Tubbo replied. His voice wavered.

“You told me the potion wouldn’t work if your body didn’t have the strength and energy to utilize it.” When Tubbo didn’t reply, the thief sighed. “Just, please, try.”

Tubbo reluctantly accepted the food from his friend, holding it gingerly in both hands, staring at it. The blond boy crouched and picked up his satchel, searching for something in it. Tubbo looked at his friend, salmon cake lying uneaten in his grip.

“You should eat something too, Tommy,” he said.

“Not hungry,” Tommy replied. The response was too quick for it not to be a lie. Still, Tubbo didn’t comment on it.

The boys fell into silence and Wilbur thought. The pair clearly had no one to help them, and if Tommy was desperate enough to steal some of the most expensive items the adventurers owned, an offence he could potentially be punished greatly for, the two were obviously in a bad situation. Wilbur wanted nothing more than to wrap the two boys in blankets and keep them away from everything that had hurt them, but they clearly weren’t allowing themselves to trust anyone, least of all one of the people who had chased the thief.

Wilbur weighed the options in his head. He could make himself known, try and convince the boys he meant no harm and convince the thief to allow him to help his friend. He could backtrack and recruit the rest of his family, though it might be harder to convince the haggard children to trust a larger group of people.

The choice was made for him when his footing shifted, and the loud crack of a snapped stick sliced through the quiet.

Tommy’s head shot up instantly, eyes wide with shock and fear, staring at the cave entrance. Wilbur’s breath caught in his throat, and he cursed himself silently.

The thief inhaled sharply as Wilbur pulled back the vines, revealing himself. In an instant Tommy had put himself between Tubbo and Wilbur, yanking a flimsy stone axe from his belt and assuming a fighting stance.

Wilbur threw his hands up, trying to appear non-threatening. “Wait, please! I’m sorry for startling you, I just want to help.”

Tommy glared at Wilbur, lips curled back in an animalistic snarl. “Get the fuck away.”

Wilbur didn’t budge. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to help.”

“I said, get away!” Tommy shouted, his anger doing a poor job at covering the fearful waver in his voice. Tubbo watched the exchange in frightened silence. They looked like cornered animals, defensive and scared and beyond reasoning.

“Please-“ Wilbur tried.

“Leave.” Tommy growled. His knuckles went white from the tight grip on his axe. Desperation was dripping from his voice.

“Please, listen,” Wilbur pleaded, taking a step into the small cavern.

Wrong move.

Tommy lunged, axe swinging for the Wilbur. He dodged, but the kid showed no sign of stopping, immediately readying for another strike. Wilbur leapt back, narrowly avoiding the blade, and then the two were on the grass outside the cave, one attacking, one evading.

Wilbur’s sword lay sheathed, strapped to his back, unused. He refused to draw it, he knew the action would destroy any hope he had of gaining the boy’s trust.

Tommy feinted to the right, and Wilbur fell for it, swerving for the left. The blond seized the opportunity and dropped to a crouch, kicking out a leg and sweeping Wilbur’s feet from under him. He fell to the hard ground with a grunt, winded.

Before he could recover, Tommy was atop him, his knee digging into Wilbur’s gut and free hand pinning his left arm. His eyes widened at the sight of the axe poised to strike, right over his chest.

Wilbur watched in horror as the axe come down.

Pain exploded in his arm and Wilbur bit back a scream. Hot blood poured down his limb, the blade buried in a wound on his upper arm, having swerved from its trajectory for his chest. Wilbur’s eyes met his attacker’s glare, bright blue eyes boring straight into his soul.

Instead of defending himself like his instincts screamed at him to, Wilbur stared right back, unmoving.

Tommy stilled, and Wilbur didn’t struggle, holding his gaze even as he fought back cries of pain, pain pulsing from the wound in his arm. He didn’t try to buck the much smaller boy off, nor did he attempt to draw his sword to defend himself. He hoped if Tommy realized he wouldn’t hurt them, even if Tommy had attacked first, they would hear him out.

Tommy watched him, his face set in an expression of anger and expectance, and Wilbur stayed silent, waiting. He would wait for as long as he needed, as long as it took Tommy to realize he wasn’t an enemy.

Or until he passed out from blood loss. He’d prefer it didn’t come to that, though.

It seemed like an eternity before Tommy hesitantly withdrew, lifting his axe from Wilbur’s arm. Wilbur immediately grasped the wound, applying pressure to it as crimson streaks flowed down his arm. The crude axe was blunt enough that the wound wasn’t too deep. He glanced up at Tommy as he stood. The boy continued eyeing him cautiously, as if struggling to believe the traveler meant no harm.

“What do you want?”

Wilbur met the boy’s gaze. The gaze of the boy who was desperate enough to attack an older, much stronger man to protect his friend. The boy whose tattered clothes hung from his too-thin frame. The boy whose eyes held a wild amalgamation of suspicion and fear and bone-deep exhaustion.

And Wilbur responded, answering from the bottom of his heart.

“I want to help you.”

The boy studied Wilbur with narrowed eyes, silent. After a long moment, he seemingly came to a decision, turning to return to the cave. When he got to the entrance, he glanced over his shoulder toward Wilbur, who had yet to move.

Tommy gestured to the cave, eyeing Wilbur pointedly. Wilbur approached, pausing at the entrance, seeking silent permission from the boy. Tracking his movement with a blank expression, Tommy waited for him before ducking into the small cave. Wilbur followed suit.

The inside of the cave was damp and dingy, the air clinging to Wilbur’s skin. On the other side of the cave, Tubbo stiffened at the sight of Wilbur before Tommy muttered something to him. He relaxed, giving Wilbur a weak smile.

“I don’t have any of your potions,” Tommy said, drawing Wilbur’s attention. “We used them already.”

Wilbur knew that was a lie, but didn’t call him out on it. “It’s alright, you needed them more than we did.”

The blond looked at Wilbur strangely, maybe surprised, before turning away. He went to pick up his satchel from where he had abandoned it on the floor, sticking a hand in and rooting around it once more. He retrieved a strip of bast before closing the bag and returning to Wilbur.

He held out the bast to Wilbur. “Birch bast. For your arm. We don’t have any more bandages.”

Wilbur took it with a kind smile. He tightly wrapped the bast around his flowing wound, effectively stifling the blood flow. Tommy set about doing something or other by the fire, lips set in a thin line.

“I’m sorry my friend stole your potions.”

Wilbur turned to where Tubbo had spoken from, still sitting on the low rock ledge.

“Thank you for understanding,” he continued, relief evident in his voice. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Wilbur,” he answered.

Tubbo dipped his head in acknowledgment. “My name’s Tubbo. That’s Tommy,” he said, gesturing to his friend. Tommy still didn’t say anything, though he was watching the conversation from the side. “He’s the one who’s been keeping the both of us alive these past few days.”

Wilbur internally winced. Children shouldn’t be struggling to stay alive.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” Wilbur asked tentatively, shuffling on his feet.

Tubbo thought for a moment, fidgeting. “Tommy and I have been on our own for a while now, just the two of us on the streets, traveling from one town to the next every couple of months. A few days ago, Tommy got caught trying to steal some winter clothes for us. The townspeople chased us out and into the woods, and we didn’t know how to get to any other nearby towns.”

Tubbo hesitated and looked to Tommy, as if asking him if he should continue. The blond gave him a miniscule nod before turning back to the campfire.

Tubbo breathed deeply. “We got caught out in the woods at night. We didn’t have anything to fend off the mobs with, and a drowned with a trident got me in the side. The wound was shallow, it barely bled, but it ended up getting infected, and I came down with a fever the next day. It was pretty bad, I could barely eat anything without vomiting it back up, and it landed me fairly weak. Tommy tried to sneak back into town and steal some medicine from the apothecary, but he couldn’t get past the town guards. It was then we started growing desperate, and Tommy found your group. We hoped the potions he stole would work as a substitute for proper medicine.”

Wilbur’s heart dropped further and further the more Tubbo talked. They weren’t even teens yet. Wilbur wanted to apologize to them, apologize on behalf of the world that ignored and detested the two boys, but he doubted they would want the vocalization of their past to be met with pity.

Instead, Wilbur tried something else. “Would you like to come with us?”

“What?” Tubbo asked, tone laced with confusion. Tommy’s head snapped up at Wilbur’s offering, tilting his head slightly in question.

“You don’t have parents, do you?” When Tubbo shook his head, Wilbur continued. “You could stay with my family if you’d like. Although we do travel a lot, so we could also find someone else to take you in.”

Tubbo hesitated, glancing over to Tommy. The blond was inspecting Wilbur, silent.

Tubbo sighed. “I don’t know.”

Wilbur smiled comfortingly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to make a decision now. My family and I can get you the medicine you need, as well as some filling food and good clothes. Does that sound good?”

Tubbo beamed, and Wilbur swore the cave got slightly less dim. “That sounds great, thank you.”

Wilbur turned to Tommy and spotted the blond smiling softly. As soon as the boy saw Wilbur watching, he turned away, smothering the grin.

Suddenly, a faint sound reached the cavern, and the three occupants quieted, ears straining to try and pick up the sound. It sounded like yelling.

When the shout sounded again, Wilbur made out the call, voices ringing through the quiet air. “Wilbur!”

“That’ll be my family,” Wilbur explained.

He went to exit the cave and respond. He halted when Tommy stood, reaching out as if about to grab Wilbur’s arm before apparently deciding better of it, retracting his hand.

“Will they…” Tommy started, hesitating.

Wilbur smiled. “They won’t hurt you.” When Tommy continued to look unconvinced, he added, “I’ll make sure of it.”

Tommy nodded, turning to exit the cave with Wilbur. Wilbur knew his family would never hurt these boys, Techno had likely only attacked Tommy because he assumed the boy was some thieving mob. But he needed a promise of safety from the one who had proven himself to mean no harm, and Wilbur would provide it.

The cold bite of a sudden wind nipped at his skin as Wilbur stepped out into the night. He raised his hands to cup his mouth, shouting out for his companions. When their questioning calls reached his ears, he shouted once more. Tommy was stiff beside him, looking ready to spring away at a moment’s notice.

Eventually, Phil and Techno trotted from the shadows under the trees. Techno had his warm cape wrapped around his damp form. Their searching gazes lit up when they saw Wilbur.

They paused when they caught sight of Tommy.

At the pair of questioning looks thrown his way, Wilbur smiled reassuringly. “Hey Techno! Hey Phil!”

“What’s happening? Who’s this?” Phil was the first to ask anything. Techno’s face was unreadable.

“This is Tommy. Tommy, this is Phil and Techno,” Wilbur introduced them, watching as Tommy eyed them, a blank expression carefully painted onto his face.

Phil and Techno approached where Wilbur stood outside the cave, the former smiling gently at Tommy. “Hey mate, sorry for chasing you, you startled us a little bit.”

Tommy gave him a small nod of acknowledgement. He hesitated a moment before asking, “So you’re Wilbur’s family, then?” He scanned the pair, failing to find any similarities in features.

Techno scoffed. “We’re not actually relate-“

“Yeah, we’re Wil’s family,” Phil confirmed.

“And you want to help us?” Tommy questioned.

Techno’s pig-like ears flicked upwards in interest. “Us?”

Tommy opened his mouth to answer, but was swiftly cut off by the painful sound of coughing from inside the cavern. He immediately left the alarmed adventurers, hastily returning to the cave. Wilbur glanced at his family before rushing into the cave, hearing them enter behind him.

Tommy was by his friend, comforting him as dry, agonizing coughs tore themselves from his throat. He readied a canteen as Tubbo gripped his arm, tears gathering at the corner of his brown eyes. When the hacking finally subsided, Tubbo took several deep, steadying breaths as Tommy rubbed circles into his back. He then took the proffered water gratefully.

Phil walked over to the two boys from where he and Techno had stood taking in the scene before them. He kneeled next to Tommy, taking in Tubbo’s condition. Before long he was firing questions at him.

“Do you have a fever?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Tubbo said, nodding. His voice was shaky.

“Did you drink any of the potions you took?”

Tubbo shook his head.

“That’s good. Potions don’t usually work on illnesses, they would’ve just drained your energy,” Phil said.

He turned so he was facing his sons. “Techno, can you go get my satchel and medicine pouch from camp?”

Tommy’s face morphed to one of disbelief at Phil’s question, looking as though he were kicking himself internally. It would have been funny had their situation not been so serious.

Techno nodded, quickly jogging out of the cave and into the night. Phil sat down, returning his attention to the children.

“I don’t have any medicine that can cure you,” Phil explained to the Tubbo. “I probably have some items that can help with your symptoms, though. It’ll help until we can travel to town in the morning and buy you some proper medicine.”

Tubbo nodded, thanking Phil profusely. Hope brought a lively spark to his soulful eyes.

“Now, while we wait for him, can you two boys tell me what happened?”

The pair nodded, and they both began recounting their tale, Tubbo doing the majority of the talking and Tommy piping up every once and a while.

Wilbur watched the scene, relief lightening his heart. As Phil listened intently to Tubbo, Tommy turned towards Wilbur. He didn’t say anything, nor did he smile, but his bright blue eyes shone with gratitude.

Wilbur smiled. Yeah, Tommy and Tubbo were going to be fine. He would make sure of it.

\-----

Moonlight filtered through the slits in the slightly open blinds covering the window, painting the room in silvery stripes. The gentle glow of a candle danced along the walls, small flame flickering.

Tommy pulled on his boots, already dressed in his day clothes. The boots were new, the adventurer called Phil had bought them for him after seeing his old shoes and describing them as having ‘more holes than a fishing net.’

He glanced up, gaze landing on Tubbo. His friend was lying fast asleep, snuggled contently under the blankets heaping the bed across from Tommy’s own. His eyelashes fanned over his cheeks in his peaceful slumber. He looked healthier than he had in months, his skin less pale, his cheeks fuller. The medicine the adventurers had bought for him had worked wonders, and a week later Tubbo was almost back to full health.

Tommy bit the inside of his cheek, a twinge of guilt passing through him. Tubbo stirred, still sleeping as he readjusted himself before turning his back to Tommy. Tommy looked away.

He stood from his seat on the soft bed, beginning to gather his meager belongings. He walked with a silence he had mastered over the years, footfalls never making a sound.

When he had finished, he reached up to his neck, untying the red bandana lying around his shoulders. He rubbed the linen in between two fingers for a long moment before walking over to Tubbo’s bedside. He placed it on the small table next to Tubbo’s bed, sure that Tubbo would find it when the morning came, and he would understand.

With a heavy heart, he snuffed out the candle, and the room was dark once more.

Tommy paused at the door, hand laid still on the door knob. He glanced at Tubbo again. His best friend, someone he called a brother. From the start they had been together; Tommy probably wouldn’t even be alive if Tubbo hadn’t been there.

Would Tubbo be upset that Tommy had left? Would he search for him?

A soft sigh fell from Tommy’s lips as he pulled the door open, stepping out into the dimly lit hallway.

Pulling the door shut behind him, he glanced at the door across from him. The three adventurers were asleep in the room across from his and Tubbo’s.

Tommy’s mind wandered to them as he strolled down the hallway. Upon coming to this town, this one much larger than the one Tommy and Tubbo had last resided in, they had gone to the apothecary and bought Tubbo the medicine he needed. They hadn’t stopped there, buying the pair new clothes suitable for the upcoming winter and a hot, filling meal that left them drowsy and content.

They had been staying at the inn for a little under a week, the adventurers learning more about the boys and vice versa while Tubbo rested and healed.

He had learned that Wilbur and Techno were teenagers, Techno sixteen and Wilbur eighteen. He learnt Techno was a piglin hybrid, Wilbur enjoyed songwriting and Phil had a crazy amount of knowledge on the End, considering no one has ever found the entrance to the legendary dimension.

Their kindness had gone from suspicious to baffling. They didn’t seem to mind how Tommy kept his guard up, or his incessant questions. It seemed too good to be true.

He reached the stairs that led to the ground floor of the inn. It was early in the morning, sunrise still hours away, and the tables and bar were empty.

He glanced over at a table by the corner. It was there the five of them had sat in the evenings with hot meals of stew and soup, talking and joking and laughing. The adventurers had welcomed the boys with open arms, and Tommy hadn’t been able to remember a time he had been so happy.

They had told stories about their travels and adventures. Stories about how Techno single-handedly slayed a wild ravager. Tales about Phil taking on a trio of endermen and coming out alive. How Wilbur had discovered the secret to curing zombified villagers after finding a strange igloo in the arctic.

They had offered the boys a place in their party. With the prospect of countless adventures laid out before them, along with a home, a family, people to care for them, they had accepted gratefully, though Tommy had only accepted for Tubbo’s sake.

When Wilbur jokingly teased an indignant Tommy, when Techno’s sarcastic quips sent ripples of laughter through them, when Phil showed him more care than Tommy had ever experienced from an adult, a sense of belonging swelled in Tommy’s heart, a joy he never thought he’d be given the chance to feel.

It terrified him.

Tommy walked over to the exit, adjusting his coat. Through the windows, he saw a waning moon become hidden by the dark clouds gliding across the night sky.

This happiness couldn’t last, not for him anyway. No matter how caring they seemed, Tommy knew how this story would end. They’d grow tired of him, he’d grow to annoy them, become too much. And like the orphanage before them, like his parents before them, they would kick him out, leave him in the dust. He wasn’t going to wait idly for it to happen and allow himself to get his hopes up. He wouldn’t let himself be vulnerable again.

Tubbo had fit into the adventurers’ dynamic almost instantly, slotting in like a missing puzzle piece. Tommy had never seen Tubbo as happy and hopeful as he had in the last week. He had found a place to belong, and Tommy wasn’t going to ruin that for him.

Tommy longed for nothing more than a family, but he had long since learned that good things don’t last.

He laid his hands on the door as he readied himself to do what he does best. To run like the coward he was.

“What are you doing?”

Tommy sucked in a breath, swiveling around. His wide eyes met ones of rich blue, and he felt his heart begin to race. His brain screamed for him to bolt, yet his legs stayed rigid as a tree trunk.

“I… uh…” Tommy stammered.

“Are you leaving?” Phil asked, brows furrowed in confusion. His hair was sticking up all over the place, messy from sleep, and he wore only his green robe and tan sandals.

Tommy attempted to pull himself together. He paused for a moment, still stammering. “Uh, y-yeah, I guess so.”

The confusion adorning Phil’s face only grew. “Why?”

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, soon shutting it again. What was he supposed to say? He was kicking himself out before Phil did?

“I… I don’t know.”

Phil’s confused gaze softened at the pathetic explanation. He approached, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and Tommy stayed still.

“You don’t have to leave, you know. We want you here, we would love to have you with us.”

Tommy tried to speak, but his throat had gone dry. He swallowed, nodding.

“So, why do you want to leave?” Phil tried again.

Phil was right in front of him. They were eye-to-eye, Tommy being quite tall for his age and the same height as the older man. Tommy looked away, suddenly very interested in the floor.

“I- I didn’t think you’d want to have me,” Tommy murmured, barely audible. He refused to look at him.

“What makes you think that?” Phil asked, earnestness radiating off him. He chuckled. “Wilbur already talks about you like you’re his little brother.”

Tommy scoffed sadly. When Phil stayed silent, he brought his gaze from the floor, frowning. His navy eyes were still trained on Tommy.

Tommy was confused. Why should Phil care if he left or not? Did he not know Tommy would only be a liability? Was he too gullible to realize Tommy would never fit into the perfect family they had?

A sudden resolve overcame Tommy, and he shook his head. “I’m not worth your time anyway, nor your care. Thank you for your kindness, but I should be leaving.”

He laid his hand on the door knob once more, moving to pull the door open. Suddenly, Phil’s gentle hand was placed on Tommy’s arm, and he turned to meet the man’s sympathetic gaze.

Tommy had grown up learning how to read people. It was a skill he was forced to master in order to survive. He learnt how to tell when someone had bad intentions, if they would talk or if they would strike. He knew all the tells of a liar, could detect any hint of dishonesty.

“You are worth more than you could ever imagine, Tommy,” Phil said, and Tommy didn’t know how to feel, because he spoke as if that simple statement was a truth he had plucked straight from the heavens.

Phil placed his hands on Tommy’s shoulders, and Tommy turned to face him. “You are worth so much more than you have been led to believe, and I would be honored to have you join us. I know you may not trust us, and I don’t blame you, but if you don’t want to leave, please, give us a chance and stay.”

And inside Tommy, something broke free. Maybe it was a dam finally breaking, releasing its powerful floodwaters. Maybe it was the gate to the other side of the fence, to the greener grass he had yearned so long for. But at Phil’s words, the simple act of genuine kindness that livened Tommy’s solemn heart, he felt free, a kind of freedom that came with allowing oneself to be vulnerable. This time, he didn’t push the feeling away.

Tommy tried to speak, but nothing came from his efforts. He felt hot tears prick at the corner of his eyes, filling his eyes and threatening to spill. Phil opened his arms, and Tommy leaned into the embrace after a moment of hesitation. His body shook with silent sobs as he clutched onto Phil like a lifeline, and the man hugged him back just as hard. He didn’t know why he was crying, but it felt good.

They stood like that for a while, Phil allowing Tommy to soak in every moment of the loving embrace. He started to run his fingers through Tommy’s unruly blond hair, and Tommy lost his sense of time to the warmth and happiness that flooded his heart.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so safe, so protected, so cared about.

Perhaps he could find enough courage in himself to allow himself to be vulnerable, to accept the care and kindness that came so unconditionally.

Tommy, for once in his life, allowed himself to hope.

**Author's Note:**

> DADZA AND BIG BRO WILBUR POG!!   
> If you have the time, please consider leaving a comment! I read and appreciate them all and they keep me going :D  
> And if haven’t read Every Tempest I Abide, go check it out! The story follows Tommy as he is separated from his family and embarks on a journey to find them again.


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